


Not An Angel

by songofhell



Series: Falling For You [2]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M, just to be warned, this is the most depressing part of this series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 01:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6733258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofhell/pseuds/songofhell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale has fallen and Crowley doesn't know what to expect... but of all the things he had considered, it was not this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not An Angel

“Angel?” Crowley called as he walked back into the bookshop.

There was no response. 

Was he still talking to Heaven? Crowley had waited a full five minutes after he got off the line with Hell to ensure that he gave Aziraphale enough time. Surely the conversation couldn’t take any longer than that.

He stood still and listened intently, frowning when he heard absolutely nothing. That couldn’t be right. Aziraphale wouldn’t have gone anywhere to contact Heaven; maybe he just hadn’t heard him. 

“Aziraphale?” He called again as he made his way into the back room. 

Once again, no response. And even worse, the back room was empty. He wasn’t here. 

Crowley was definitely not panicking. Nope, definitely not. Aziraphale had probably just neglected to mention to him that Heaven had a new special place assigned for Aziraphale to contact them at. Yes, that had to be it.[1]

It wouldn’t hurt to drive around the block a few times to see if he caught sight of him, though. That didn’t mean that he thought anything had happened to him, he just didn’t want to have to wait for him to get back. Demons weren’t known for being patient, after all.

He absolutely did _not_ run back out to the Bentley, he simply walked in a brisk fashion.[2] He was just about to pull out from the curb when a sudden noise made him jump.

“CROWLEY?” Freddie Mercury’s voice echoed through the radio.

 _Again?_ Why the heaven did Hell have to talk to him now?

“Yes?” Crowley answered, a bit more impatiently than he would have normally. But he was out of the snake house, right?

“WE ARE MOST IMPRESSED WITH YOUR WORK.”

They had called back to say _that?_ Hadn’t that point already been made? “Oh, er, thank you.”

“YOU WILL RECEIVE A COMMENDATION FOR THIS, OF COURSE.”

A commendation? But he hadn’t actually done anything yet; as far as they knew, he was just attempting to get Aziraphale to fall. “But-”

“YOU HAVE MOVED VERY QUICKLY ON THIS; FOR ALL OUR HOPES, WE HAD NOT EXPECTED THE ANGEL TO FALL SO SOON.”

Crowley’s heart didn’t just sink, it plummeted. Aziraphale hadn’t been able to work things out with Heaven, he had fallen. No, _no,_ he had sworn that he wouldn’t let that happen. But there was no undoing a fall, he knew that. “So A-Aziraphale is in Hell now?” he clarified around the lump in his throat.

“YES.”

Crowley took a deep breath, struggling to remain calm. “Do you think that – perhaps – you could send him up to me?”

“WHAT WOULD BE THE POINT IN THAT?”

“Well, he already has an attachment to me. I might be able to better acquaint him with the life than some random demon he doesn’t know would be able to.”

There was a pause. “THAT SOUNDS FAIR.” The line cut off to be replaced by ‘Another One Bites the Dust.’

Crowley immediately turned off the radio, asking of no one in particular, “You’re sending him back, right?”

“Hello, Crowley,” a soft voice spoke and Crowley’s gaze snapped to his left. Hell had issued Aziraphale a new corporation, but one that bore a few similarities to his old one. He was slightly slimmer, still without actually being slim, he had more of a tan, and his hair had gone from light blond angelic curls to dirty blond and straight. His head was bowed so Crowley couldn’t see his eyes.

“Angel,” Crowley breathed, “I-”

“I’m not an angel anymore,” Aziraphale interrupted, his voice unreadable.

“I didn’t want this.”

“I know. But I made my choice.”

Crowley hesitated, unsure of what to say. “Do you want to go back inside?”

Aziraphale shook his still bowed head. “Let’s go to your place.”

“Alright.” He drove them to his apartment in silence, spending more time looking at Aziraphale than the road, feeling a bit of relief when he saw his shoulders start to relax. The car that was in Crowley’s usual spot suddenly jumped to the next spot over and the Bentley took its place. He turned to Aziraphale to say something, but when he realized that he didn’t know what he was supposed to say, he sighed and got out of the car, Aziraphale following him up to his apartment.

“Do you want anything?” he asked as he closed the door behind them. “Wine, or-?”

He wasn’t able to get anymore words out, for as soon as the door was closed, Aziraphale had him pinned to it, kissing him hard and demanding. Crowley had no idea how long the kiss lasted[3] and then he found himself staring into bright red eyes. The bright, almost glowing red stood out even more than Crowley’s yellow eyes did; at least Aziraphale’s pupils appeared to be normal.[4]

“You,” the newly fallen angel answered in a low voice that certainly did things to Crowley. His grin was almost feral, and had it been anyone else, it might have made Crowley nervous.[5]

“Oh…” Crowley breathed. “Are you sure you don’t want to…?” Aziraphale ground his hips pointedly against Crowley’s, effectively making him lose his train of thought. “Let’ssss go to the bedroom.”

* * *

 

When Crowley awoke the next morning, he felt far more content than he ever did upon waking up. Nobody likes it when pleasant things came to an end, after all, and Crowley found sleep to be very pleasant, something that normally caused waking up to be a rather disagreeable ordeal. Apparently, falling asleep in the arms of his angel made even waking up more bearable.

Except that Aziraphale wasn’t an angel, anymore. Crowley’s good mood vanished as he fully remembered the details of the previous day. What was he doing? Aziraphale had just fallen, he should have been making sure that he was okay, not having sex with him. He rolled over, intending to remedy his mistake, only to find that Aziraphale was no longer in bed.

“Aziraphale?” he called.

He was getting real tired of not getting a response.

A mild panic began to overtake him. Aziraphale was probably angry at him for the way he had handled things last night, and he couldn’t say that he blamed him. He just hadn’t known what to do, and then everything had happened so fast. He shook his head; thinking about last night would only distract him thoroughly, and he needed to fix this.

It was then that he noticed the note on his bedside table, scrawled in familiar handwriting. He nervously reached for it, holding his breath as he read, _‘Gone to the bookshop. Come see me?   -Az’_

He breathed a sigh of relief. It would, of course, be very characteristic of Aziraphale to run off to his bookshop first thing in the morning. It was good to know that some things hadn’t changed.

Crowley got ready quickly, arriving at Aziraphale’s bookshop a little over an hour later. As he pulled up to the curb, though, he got the sudden sensation that something was wrong; he scanned the area from behind his sunglasses until he found the source of the wrongness – a man leaving Aziraphale’s bookshop, book in hand.

It was only a matter of seconds before Crowley stepped up in front of the man, looking down at him sternly as he blocked his path. “Where did you get that book?” he demanded.

“Um…” The guy glanced around, clearly startled. “That shop, there.” He pointed at Aziraphale’s.

“Did you steal it?”

“What? No, I bought it!”

“Oh, really? What book is it?”

He showed Crowley the cover and the demon’s eyes widened. He didn’t pay much attention to many of the books in Aziraphale’s shop, but he happened to know his favorites, and this was definitely one of them. “He would never sell that book.”

“He was reluctant. I’ve been going in for several weeks, trying to convince him to sell it to me. It’s the only copy I can find, you see, and it goes perfect in my collection. I kept telling him that there was no price too high, but he wouldn’t hear me out until today.”

Crowley stiffened. “What did you pay for it?” he asked tensely.

“Oh, um… I think that’s personal.”

“He has no interest in money!”

The man’s gaze darkened ever so slightly. “I know. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He quickly spun around and headed in the opposite direction.

Crowley gaped after him for a good few seconds before he turned and walked into Aziraphale’s shop. The demon looked up from the counter and smiled. “Hello, dear. Sleep well?”

“Mmhm,” Crowley murmured as he walked forward, scrutinizing Aziraphale as he did. He wasn’t wearing anything to disguise his eyes and Crowley had to wonder what that man had thought when he had walked in today.

“I personally had a wonderful time last night. If you don’t have any plans today, perhaps we could-”

“Did you just sell a guy a book for his soul?” Crowley finally managed to get the words out.

Aziraphale blinked once in surprise. “He told you?”

“I guessed.” He shook his head slightly. “I didn’t think you’d be eager to start doing favors for Hell.”

“Oh, it’s not for Hell, it’s for me.”

Crowley arched an eyebrow. “What?”

“I just thought it’d be nice to have. It was a biblical book, so I don’t have any need for it anymore, and I certainly don’t have any need of money. It thought it would be a nice, alternative method of payment, and a little bit of extra power is nice.”

“For _what?”_

He shrugged. “I don’t know. It just seems nice.”

Crowley continued to stare at Aziraphale in shock for another minute or so before he finally managed to quiet the voice in his head screaming that this was very wrong. Aziraphale was a demon now, after all; it was stupid to hope that that wouldn’t lead to some changes in him.

“Alright. Well, er… you were asking me if I wanted to do something?”

“Yes. I was thinking about closing up the shop and fucking you senseless. What do you say, dear?”

It was funny how those words had such an instantaneous effect on Crowley. He opened his mouth, closed it when he realized no words were coming, and then simply nodded.

Crowley eventually got used to Aziraphale’s advances so that he stopped becoming a stammering mess every time the ex-angel mentioned sex. Though, he wasn’t entirely sure whether that was due to growing more comfortable with him, or becoming more and more distracted by worry. Because the more uncharacteristic things Aziraphale said and did, the more red flags that were raised in Crowley, the harder it was to ignore. Yes, Aziraphale was a demon now. Yes, things were bound to change in him. But he should still be Aziraphale at his core – the being that Crowley had fallen in love with it – but as time wore on, he was becoming less and less sure that he was still there.

And then, all at once, all doubts were erased from his mind.

He stood in the doorway to Aziraphales shop, looking between his boyfriend and the pile of ashes where a man had stood just two seconds previously.

“You… you killed him.”

“Yes, he was being very irritating,” Aziraphale’s reply was nonchalant, as if murder was a normal thing for him.

Crowley felt cold.[6] “But you killed him.”

Aziraphale sighed as though Crowley was the unreasonable one here. “Relax, my dear. We’re demons, are we not? Surely you’ve killed before.”

“As a matter of fact, I have not!”

Aziraphale raised his eyebrows curiously. “Really? Why not? It’s a good way to relieve stress.”

“Because it’s killing!” Crowley shook his head. “Ang – Aziraphale,[7] what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing is wrong with me. I feel better than I ever have. If I had known that becoming a demon was so freeing, I would have fallen ages ago.”

“That’s ridiculous. Of course you knew that becoming a demon was freeing – it’s in the very nature of being a demon! You just never gave into that. And believe me, it won’t feel so free once you have Hell breathing down your neck; which won’t be long, with how well you’re fitting in with the rest of them. I wouldn’t be surprised if they gave you a pretty high ranking – and therefore demanding – job, what with how well you fit the mold of the other demons down… there…” He slowly trailed off from his heated rant as a thought occurred to him. He slowly forced himself to meet Aziraphale’s eyes, fear in his own. “You can’t love.” The words came out quiet, as though Crowley was afraid to say it any louder, for fear that that would make it true.

Aziraphale blinked, his expression growing wary. “No.” Though he spoke softly, the word seemed to echo in the space between them.

Crowley suddenly felt like he was suffocating. He forced himself to take a deep breath, attempting to reign in his emotions. It wouldn’t do to start crying and make Aziraphale see him as even weaker than he surely already did. "Then what was the point of this?” his voice was constricted with emotion that was almost as bad as tears. 

Aziraphale stepped closer, his voice soothing as he reached out to rest his hand on Crowley’s shoulder. “I still fell for you, and that means something. I may not be able to love you, but I’m still drawn to you.”

Crowley shook his head, unable to look at his boyfriend. “Please don’t touch me.”

Aziraphale slowly withdrew his hand. “I became this for you, Crowley.”

“I didn’t want you to!” Crowley’s head whipped back toward Aziraphale as his voice rose. Tears were sliding down his cheeks now and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“So I should have killed you?” Aziraphale challenged.

“Maybe.”

Aziraphale shook his head. “I’m happy with my choice. I’d make it again. And it’s not as though I want nothing to do with you now. I still feel something for you, just not like I used to. We can make it work.”

“How?”

“Just like we have been.” He must have seen the doubt on Crowley’s face because he reached out, taking the other demon’s hands. “I honestly want to be with you, my dear. Will you stay? Please?”

Crowley searched the red eyes before him, eyes that were distant, removed from feeling. How had he not seen it before? But he knew the answer to that, he had been seeing what his wanted to see. His angel was gone, and he had to stop being in denial about that. Aziraphale was a demon, and closer to Hastur and Ligur on the demonic scale than to Crowley.[8] So what was Crowley supposed to do?

His eyes slid down to their joined hands and he pulled his away, taking a step back. “I don’t know.” He turned and fled out onto the street before Aziraphale could say another word.

* * *

 

[1] Alright, he didn’t believe that in the slightest, but he had to keep repeating it to himself, otherwise he would be completely useless.

[2] That is, if a brisk fashion can be defined as dashing so that he was back in his car in a matter of seconds.

[3] Exactly two minutes and thirty-six seconds.

[4] That was, they looked normal now. However, now they were dilated. Were they not, they would most certainly be abnormally small.

[5] It still did, a little bit, but the excitement far overpowered that.

[6] In a very different sense from him being cold blooded, mind you. This cold was stemming from a lump in his chest as his whole world crumpled around him.

[7] Crowley still hadn’t quite gotten the hang of not calling him ‘angel’, and every time he slipped up, Aziraphale tended to get cross.

[8] Aziraphale’s precise ranking on the demonic scale would be a 6.87. Nobody knew exactly what that meant, but it was certainly closer to Hastur and Ligur’s ranking than to Crowley’s.

**Author's Note:**

> I had thought that this series would just be two parts, but now it's getting away from me. There will be one more part after this one, which I promise will be happier than this part.


End file.
